


You're Fine

by someonesaveme



Category: K (Anime), K - Fandom, K-Project
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, Multi, and you get to pick and choose your ships because im a filthy multishipper and idc, mostly just friendly, not joking like so much swearing, only rated teen+ because they're gang members and they swear, only shippy if you want it to be, post rok, those filthy mouthed boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6060549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonesaveme/pseuds/someonesaveme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fushimi's been feeling a bit off since that strain hit him this morning. His leg is still injured, Misaki is nagging, he somehow ended up in Bar Homra again. The last thing he needs is the added stress of seeing dead people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Fine

**Author's Note:**

> I directly reference the short story “The King and the Traitor” so go ahead and read that. 
> 
> Warning, this is flashback-y as all hell. I try to use a different line breaker to indicate the time-skips. Most of it centers around flashbacks. If you haven't finished season one or read the short story I mention up above, the last two might not make much sense. Like, you can still read it, but they won't register. 
> 
> This was meant to be short, but it is not short. It’s also my first fic in a while so. Totsuka is hard to write because his speech patterns really are made for a language different than English. I mean, it works but it’s awkward. He talks in a really roundabout way (which is actually something he does in canon). I tried to keep it as in-character as possible. Let me know how it is.

“Go inside and rest, stupid Saru! You don’t even know what the hell that strain did!”

“Quit your yapping, Misaki! Unlike a certain someone, I have actual work to get to!”

“What work? Aren’t you supposed to be on–whattya Blues call it–light duty or something? Your leg’s still injured from the big fight, right? AHHHHH! What the hell were you doing fighting that strain in the first place?! Saru!”

Fushimi clicked his tongue and wondered which one of his stupid clan members leaked that bit of information to this idiot. Probably Hidaka. That shithead was always going off about “depending on others more” and “taking time to heal”. Moron. If that idiot really wanted him to ‘take time and heal’ then he’d stop botching up his own job and making others do overtime. 

Stupid. Going to Misaki like Fushimi would listen to him or something. His leg was _fine_. The only reason he was still on bed-rest was because the captain was a sadistic ass and the lieutenant an incurable mother-hen.

And which idiot had the time of day to go running to Misaki about the strain? It happened less than three hours ago. If they had time to go crying to Homra, they could’ve done their own work instead.

“Strains aren’t even that serious anymore, stupid Misaki. The slates were destroyed, remember? They’re in the same boat as us. Honestly, if this is what you called me here for…”

“Saruhiko should go and rest.”

Both boys immediately turned around towards the direction of the bar to face the speaker. 

Anna.

She ran up to Fushimi, grabbed his hand, and tugged.

“Seri is really worried. She’s inside with Izumo, he’s worried too.”

 _Oh,_ Fushimi thought,  _So it wasn’t Hidaka after all…_

Anna tugged again and said, “I’m worried as well. Saruhiko should go inside and rest.”

And that settled that. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Lieutenant…”

“Don’t give me that, Fushimi. I hadn’t planned on allowing Yata Misaki or Ms. Kushina hear what I was talking about, but it’s only natural that I worry isn’t it? You got hit face first, it’s no laughing matter. And I _know_ your leg still hurts.”

“… nothing even happened for you to be worried about though. Besides wasn’t I blocking it from getting you…?” Fushimi muttered. At hearing that, his lieutenant’s face turned even more disapproving. 

“I’ll admit that it was because of my carelessness that you were hit…”

“No, no, trying to hold off six strains by yourself is a little more than carelessness, Lieutenant.”

“…but the fact is that _you_ were the one hit, not me. I’m thankful you backed me up, but you still need to rest. We’re still working on finding out what the strains’ powers are. For you to be up and wandering around so soon after being hit by an unknown power is…”

Fushimi sighed and let her scolding fade into the background. He didn’t have the energy for this. In truth, he’d been feeling a bit disoriented since he was hit. He kept feeling like there were people all around him, but when he turned, there was nothing. Or he’d see someone, but would be unable to hear their footsteps or sense their movements. He’d thought that it was his painkillers until he saw a man go through another one. So the strain was a sensory manipulator… 

 _Annoying_.

He took a look around Bar Homra instead of listening. He’d been back a few times since he and Misaki had reconciled, but most of the time he was just picking Misaki up (and Kamamoto, who’d join them when there was food involved, and Anna, who neither of them objected to) so he never really got a look around. In all honesty, Fushimi still felt uncomfortable in this place, which annoyed the hell out of him. 

_Pathetic. Twenty years old and you’re still scared of a bar._

_What is there even to be afraid of? You’ve seen the place a million times, it hasn’t even changed. The tables are the same, the people are the same, same doors, same bathroom, same shelves, same chair. Mikoto-san and Totsuka-san are even lazing around on the couch the same way as bef—wait. **What**?_

Fushimi was about to jump up and–well–scream probably, but he felt a hand on his before he could and turned around to find Anna, with a marble held to her left eye, staring at him. 

“Saruhiko, don’t be frightened.”

Fushimi was about to snap back that he wasn’t scared in the least just out of habit before remembering who he was talking to and clamping down on the words. 

Anna turned to Kusanagi. “Izumo, I’m taking Saruhiko upstairs.”

Kusanagi looked at her for a bit, mildly surprised she’d interrupt Seri like that, but eventually smiled and said, “Go ahead, you two. If it’s you guys I don’t have to worry about going upstairs to find my stuff all smashed up or burned to a crisp.”

Yata looked like he was about to say something along the lines of going with them so Fushimi decided to cut him off.

“Yata.”

“W-what?”

“I want some mild vanilla ice-cream and a soda.”

Yata immediately went red in the face from rage.

 _Too easy_. 

“Stupid Saru! What am I, your slave? And besides, how many times do I have to tell you that ice-cream and soda aren’t what you’re suppose to fucking eat when you’re sick, huh?! You gotta eat other stuff too, asshole! Ahhhhh, you’re so annoying! Look, I’ll make you something and you better eat it all or I’ll kill you, okay?!”

He turned around and glared at… nothing.

“Yata-chan, they went upstairs already, y’know.”

“Remember, ice-cream and soda,” drifted down from somewhere upstairs.

“I want strawberry.”

“Anna wants strawberry.”

“Ah, Yata-chan, if you’re going, pick me up a chocolate one.”

“Anko, please.”

“No, no, Seri-chan, there’s no such thing.”

“FUCK ALL OF YOU!”

 

* * *

 

 

“Helloooo, Fushimi! You look good. Are you eating properly? You’ve lost weight haven’t you? Ahhh, and after all my efforts to feed you up too. And your poor leg, I hope you’re getting rest.”

“Totsuka, cut it out. There’s a mother-hen downstairs already, kid doesn’t need it from you too.”

“Tot-Totsuka-san… Miko–to-san?”

“Mm-hm. Well, imagine our surprise that out of all the people to notice us this time, it was Fushimi! Ah, a pleasant surprise, I assure you.”

“Why– what–wait, _this_ _time_?”

“Ah, as perceptive as ever. Yep-yep. King and I sometimes make our way down. Usually in dreams, but sometimes like this too, but usually no one can see us. Anna’s caught us once though, so did Munakata-san. Oh right, is he doing better? King’ll never admit it, but he’s feeling pretty guilty about what happened, you know. It’ll be good to hear how he’s doing now from one of his own clansmen. Especially the super trusted Fushimi!”

“Um, fine? He’s fine? Wait…”

“ _See_? See, King? Munakata-san’s a tough cookie. It all worked out. So stop feeling so guilty and moping aroun–OW!”

Mikoto, who’d been silent for most of the conversation, suddenly brought his fist down on Totsuka’s head, effectively silencing the man. 

 _Ah_ , Fushimi thought, _There’s a familiar scene_.

“Fushimi…” Totsuka moaned miserably, clinging onto Fushimi’s back as he said it, “King’s being so mean to meeee…”

He felt surprisingly… solid. The contact instantly snapped Fushimi out of his trance.

“Don’t cling onto me, what do you want me to do about it? And in any case, who cares? I’m still caught on the fact that you’re even here. You both do know you’re _dead_ , right?!” 

It wasn’t until _after_ the words left his mouth that Fushimi realized that perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say. Or the best way to say it. Or really something he should point out. It occurred to him that maybe he should’ve just left the ‘dead’ thing alone. Then again, what the hell else was he supposed to say? That elephant was too big to even try to ignore. Do etiquette and delicacy even count when talking to ghosts?

 _They are ghosts right?,_ Fushimi wondered _, There’s nothing else they could be_.

The words had already left though and there wasn’t anything to do but to stick to them. So Fushimi looked up at the two men (men? ghosts? figments of his imagination?) and braced himself. 

“Fushimi, don’t be so tense. We’re not gonna get mad about that. Of course we know~” Totsuka said in a sing-song voice, shaking the shoulder he was still holding on to. 

“Then-then, if you know that then why…?”

“The afterlife gets lonely. And it’s sooo boring. Sometimes there are these little cracks that we can slip out of, so here we are! Surprise, Fushimi! Oh and Anna too, although you can’t really see us right now, can you?”

Anna smiled softly from where she sat on the bed, as if she somehow knew she was being addressed, but gave no answer. 

Totsuka’s answer seemed to spark something in Fushimi though. Annoyance.

“Lonely? Boring?! Are you fucking _kidding me_? You can’t just sneak down here like dying was some temporary– Do you know the panic you caused? And even in death you’re being careless as hell. What if someone else caught you? What if it was someone who didn’t know about the Slates and stuff? Are you even, I don’t know, allowed to be here? ARGH! Even in death you two are the most irrational, irresponsible–!”

“Fushimi,” Mikoto called. Fushimi immediately froze.

 _Again, again, again. Why can’t I control my fucking mouth today?_ Fushimi lamented internally.

Mikoto lifted a hand and Fushimi instinctually braced for impact. It was irrational. It was stupid. Mikoto had never laid a hand on him. Fushimi knew that.

 _Still, after all this time. He’s not even alive and look at you, still so frightened_.

Fushimi was surprised to find that after thinking all that, he was now more annoyed with himself than scared. As if the fear was just instinct and, this time at least, he was able to chase it away. That even though Mikoto’s hand was still coming towards him and the man was still right in front of him, that constant fear he had expected to feel, that he had always felt, wasn’t really there anymore. At least, not as intensely there. It was a little bit confusing, which also annoyed the hell out of him because why the hell would he be confused about someone _not_ intimidating him?

The hand Mikoto lifted settled on Fushimi’s head.

“You’re fine.”

Somehow, that felt familiar to Fushimi.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Fushimi was mad. He was in pain, he couldn’t move either of his hands, his left arm was in a cast that itched like all hell, he’d been unable to sleep properly, and this morning Misaki had all but shoved his pain medication down his throat. And now, here he was, at Bar Homra, with a bunch of his idiot “comrades” being loud. And worried.

Seriously, what was it with wanting to know if he needed something? He was injured, not useless. He hasn’t even been allowed to so much as get a glass of water for himself all day, what the hell? They didn’t care yesterday, and they’ll probably lose interest in this facade by tomorrow. 

Guilt, Fushimi decided. What these morons felt was guilt. 

_Why? That’s stupid. I did this myself, they ought to keep out of it. Well, there’s one guy that should feel a little guilt, but he’s…_

Suoh Mikoto sat on his couch and yawned. Not a care in the world.

“Fushimi,” Kamamoto called out.

“…what?”

“We’re going to the store. Do you want something?”

“…” Fushimi felt insanely uncomfortable for some reason, aware that all of the rest of them were looking his way, expecting him to ask for something. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why that made him want to run so badly, but it did. It made his skin crawl and the words “no, go away” suddenly felt stuck in his throat. 

“Fushimi?” 

“…soda.”

“He’ll have iced tea,” Yata yelled from across the bar.

And suddenly all the eyes turned to Yata as Yata’s eyes zeroed in on his gloomy friend. Somehow, that didn’t make Fushimi uncomfortable in the least and he felt his throat open up. 

“Stupid, that’s not what I asked for.”

“You’re the stupid one, stupid. You can’t be having caffeine with pain killers. That shit’ll kill you.”

“Huh? Which grandma told you that old wive’s tale? Beside, moron, tea has caffeine too”

“What? No it doesn’t! Tea’s made out of leaves, how the hell could it have caffeine?”

“What special brand of stupid are you supposed to be?”

“Bastard! I’m telling you that–”

“R-right,” Kamamoto said nervously, drowned out by the sound of arguing, “Well, we’re going then…”

“–read a book once in a while!”

“I’m telling you that you can’t have caffeine or you’ll die!”

“Wh–”

“Fushimi, Yata, stop it,” Kusanagi said, exhasperated, “You’ve scared everyone off, y’know.”

It was true. Kamamoto and the others had slipped off while they were arguing. The two boys hadn’t even noticed. 

“Whaaaat?” Yata whined, “I wanted to go with them,”

“Tsk, sorry I’m such bad company,” Fushimi muttered from his side of the bar, not intending for Yata to hear. 

Yata and his sharp ears heard anyways. “H-hey! That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

 _I know_ , Fushimi thought. And he did, he didn’t even mean to say the words out loud they just kind of… happened.

Embarrassed at being heard, Fushimi clamped his mouth shut and refused to look over at Yata. 

Yata crooked one eyebrow up at his friend and looked confused. He didn’t know what he’d said wrong, but somehow Fushimi seemed mad about something. 

Well, he figured that if Fushimi was mad at him, he’d say so eventually. There wasn’t any point in someone like him trying to figure a guy like that out. Fushimi would tell him what’s up when he was good and ready to. Probably when they went home for the day.

“But Mikoto-san, you were seriously cool last night, you know?” Yata said, swiveling his chair around to look at his king, “Wasn’t he cool, Fushimi?”

Fushimi froze, for some reason a jolt of sharp annoyance hit him at the question. He didn’t really know why, it wasn’t as if Yata didn’t do this almost every day (it was always annoying, but more a dull annoyance at this point), and the fact that he didn’t know why it annoyed him only annoyed Fushimi more. Still, he just clamped his mouth shut and refused to embarrass himself any further,

Yata didn’t seem to pick up on his discomfort, which both relieved Fushimi because he hadn’t wanted him to, and annoyed him, because how dense can you get? He just wanted some peace and quiet already.

 _If you wanted peace and quiet, you should have known better than to come to this bar._  

Fushimi ignored that annoying voice in his head with a passion. It’s not like he didn’t know that, but Yata was going and what else was he supposed to do with his day?  

 _Right. That’s not pathetic in the least_.

“–and then you went WOOOSH and the whole line of ‘em got blown on their ass! Haha, it was amazing!”

Fushimi wondered why Yata was narrating it for Mikoto. The man was there.

‘There’ being the fight last night between Homra and Scepter 4. The fight that _wasn’t even supposed to happen_. Apparently, some Homra boys–some small-fry side members that no one really knew–had decided to get uppity with their “Homra pride” and had been attacking Scepter 4 members when they went out on jobs. Naturally, the Blue King wasn’t just going to sit on his ass and let his own clansmen be attacked. The group was arrested. 

According to Fushimi, they should’ve just let the morons stay arrested. Might’ve done their idiot brains some good. Seriously, attacking Scepter 4 like that…

Kusanagi had actually agreed, but had pointed out that the idiots were _Homra_ idiots (even if no one knew them) and it’d look pretty bad if they didn’t at least _try_ to negotiate terms. And, well, even Fushimi had to admit there was logic in that.

Since the Blue King was going to be at the site of negotiation, which was some street between the Blue and Red territories, the Red King had to make an appearance too. As expected, negotiations revealed that there was no way the Blue King was about to just hand over those stupid dickheads for nothing. And ‘nothing’ is exactly what Homra had to negotiate with so…

At some point, Mikoto had gotten fed up and decided that the best way to negotiate was apparently with fists. And of course, when kings fight, everyone fights.

At some point in the fight, Mikoto and the Blue King had ended up in a building. Anna, who had been lead away by Totsuka, had seen and had gotten worried. She’d somehow snuck away from Totsuka and scaled two stories of the building, using the fire escape, in her attempt to reach a window and see what was happening. Fushimi had been the closest one to her when the building’s wall gave a sudden lurch and Anna, having only the strength of an average eight-year-old, had lost her grip and slipped. 

He was able to catch her, luckily.

Unluckily, he was no king, he was a scrawny fifteen year old boy and there’s only so much even special powers can do. He’s sprained his right wrist and fractured his left radius in the heroic act. 

So now here he was, miserable, in pain, and listening to Yata excitedly recount the night he broke both his arms. Fantastic.

“Maaan, that was great! I knew we should’ve just fought from the get-go. Those Blues were asking for it! Mikoto-san you sure do know how to get things done!”

At hearing this, a hot wave of inexplicable frustration and annoyance washed over Fushimi. And maybe it was the drugs or maybe it was the pain in both his arms, but he wasn’t able to keep it down like he wanted to, like he usually would. He “knew”? They were “asking for it”? “Get stuff done”? They hadn’t gotten the arrested group back in the end! The Gold King had ruled against Homra in this case, as anyone with a brain could have guessed he would’ve. Fushimi had had his arms broken for _nothing_. How much stupider could that idiot get?

“Are you actually brain-dead or something?”

Yata paused his fangirling and looked over.

“…what?”

“Cool? Amazing? Were you watching the same disaster I was? The words ‘hot mess’ come to mind when I remember what happened.”

“Wha–Saru! Watch it, that’s Mikoto-san you’re insulting.”

“Mikoto-san, Homra, you, me, all of it! It was so stupid! We didn’t even need to duke it out, but apparently that’s all we do! And here you are, so stupidly excited over something that we _did wrong_.”

“Wrong?! Bastard, Homra wasn’t wrong!”

“Did you not hear the Gold King’s verdict over your fangirling, Misaki? We. Were. Wrong.”

“I don’t fucking listen to the Gold King. What do I owe him?”

“Hmmm, well this bar you’re sitting in, that PDA in your hand, the food you ate this morning, the toilet you took your last shit on. Stupid, he _rules this country_. He practically built the thing by hand.”

That was apparently too much for Yata, who lunged at Fushimi and grabbed his collar, giving it a sharp yank that dragged Fushimi right out of the chair and shocking everyone. 

“Asshole. Are you picking their side over ours?” 

The fact that “their side” apparently was the Gold _and_ Blue kings now didn’t daunt Yata in the least. It gave Fushimi a jolt though– _was_ he picking their side? But he didn’t pause long to contemplate it.

Normally, Yata’s extreme reaction would have made Fushimi realize where he was saying this. Though normally, Fushimi wouldn’t have let these words even come out of his mouth. Today though, he was on a roll.

“Side? And what side is Anna on? Huh? She didn’t almost die trying to catch a glimpse of the Blue King, no, she was climbing that fire escape and we all know who it was she was doing that for!”

That gave both of them some pause. Fushimi was honestly a bit shocked at himself. That one kind of just slipped out before he could register it. He was pretty sure there was no way he was still upset about Anna’s tumble…right? Why would he be? She was fine. Not even a scratch on her. Him on the other hand…

Really agitated now, Fushimi glared downwards.

“And watch where the hell you put those hands,” he said, voice ice-cold.

Realizing that the situation had actually gotten to Fushimi and that he was pissed for real, Yata finally snapped out of his anger driven haze and released the collar. 

“Saru, you’re messed up. Mikoto-san was obviously right,” Yata said, but in a poutier, softer voice. In response to him, Fushimi also deflated and lowered his own voice.

“Can you even tell me why you think that? And ‘because he’s Mikoto-san’ isn’t a real reason, by the way.”

“Because he’s Mikoto-san is all the reason you oughta need! He’s your king isn’t he?”

 _Your king, huh?_ Fushimi thought, _This is what it’s supposed to feel like?_

“…there’s no point in talking to you. This is so stupid,” in saying that, Fushimi turned away from Yata.

“H-hey, where are you going?”

“Mind your own business.”

“S-Saru? Hey look, I didn’t mean to grab your shirt. I was just mad, let’s just–”

Fushimi snorted and said, “’Just mad’? That’s what you think will get you off the hook? This entire place, this entire clan, is always ‘just mad’. As if that excuses anything, as if that makes up for the fact we aren’t _doing_ anything. Well, fine. I’m just mad too. In fact, I’ve been mad this whole time. We _lost_ last night, you don’t think that pisses me off? I think I’ll go do my Homra duty and punch someone out now. See ya.”

“What? Bastard–!”

“Fushimi.”

Both boys froze at the sound of Mikoto’s voice. Yata looked a bit scared but also almost excited at the thought of Mikoto talking some sense into his friend. Fushimi looked like someone had poured gasoline all over him and was now coming at him with a lighter. 

Mikoto got up and Fushimi almost gave into his urge to run. However, all that happened was Mikoto putting his hand on top of his head. 

“You’re fine.”

“Huh?”

“Relax. You’re fine this way.”

Fushimi gave a start, as if a compliment (was it a compliment?) was the last thing he could’ve ever expected from this man. 

“W-what? Thanks… I guess…”

With that, Fushimi practically ran out of the bar.

“Yata,” Totsuka called from his seat after a slight pause, “I think you should leave Fushimi be for now. Or at least lay off the topic.”

Yata nodded at the suggestion and ran off after the other boy. Leaving the adults in the bar.

“Mikoto? You’re really fine with that?” Kusanagi asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well… he was pretty harsh…”

“He was speaking his mind. That’s what mouths are for, right?”

“He was losing it.”

“That’s fine too.”

Kusanagi sighed. “You do know that ‘losing it’ isn’t actually a positive thing, right?”

Mikoto took a long drag of his cigarette and shrugged. 

“Well,” Kusanagi said, shooting a look of fond exasperation over at his King, “To you it might as well be, huh? I don’t intend on holding him to it, in any case. Fifteen’s a tough age.”

Mikoto ‘hm’-ed.

“And well, it’s not like I disagree with _everything_ he said.”

At that, Mikoto groaned. 

“Didn’t I already apologize for this? How much longer are you gonna nag about it?”

“No, King,” Totsuka chimed in, “I wouldn’t call Kusanagi-san’s lecture yesterday simple nagging. I thought you were seriously gonna die. Thank God you’re a King or that’d have been the end. Ahh, but that’s embarrassing, scolded by _two_ of your own subordinates~”

Totsuka giggled at his own words while Mikoto glared.

“But you know,” he said, suddenly serious, “I agree with King on this one. I also think that an angry Fushimi is better than the one who doesn’t say anything. At least you know what he thinks of you this way.”

“Well, I don’t want to hold it against him all the same,” Kusanagi replied.

“Eh? No, no, of course not. He didn’t even say anything that needs holding onto. But even at the very end, when King got up, he didn’t take back a single one of his words. That means he was being totally honest with his thoughts, right?”

“That’s why I told him it was fine,” Mikoto said in response, “He’s fine that way.”

Kusanagi shook his head, but didn’t disagree. After all, he didn’t want to hold Fushimi to his words today but he’d realized the same thing his friends had. That was the most alive he’d ever seen Fushimi outside of battle. Well, the most unhappy too, but he was always unhappy. He’d never been _alive_ though, never so honest. Now, if only they could address some of that and finally get Fushimi fitting in comfortably…

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“You’re fine the way you are, Fushimi.” 

That’s what Suoh Mikoto said, and for some reason, standing outside his cell, Fushimi knew that was the last thing he’d hear his ex-King say. And the man hadn’t even turned around to say it. 

 _So the asshole plans on dying after all_ …

Fushimi clicked his tongue and made the executive decision that he didn’t care. After all, why would he? It meant nothing to him. Nothing Suoh Mikoto did meant anything to him now…

So why did he go to try and stop him? Why did it matter to him so much that that man live? Or at least try? Was he really all rage, no thought? He could at least–

But whatever, it didn’t matter. Fushimi had said his piece, he’d said everything he’d gone down there to say. He’d actually said _more_ than he’d planned on saying. If that man wouldn’t listen, then so be it.

His scar itched and Fushimi pointedly ignored it. Somehow that made it hurt worse than it did when he scratched it.

 _Fine the way I am, huh? Which part of any of this is ‘fine’_?

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He glared up at the Red King as the man sauntered past him, too scared to do anything else. Scepter 4 HQ in shambles, his lieutenant lying unconscious at his feet, his clan mates all looking as bad as he felt or worse. They’d lost, they’d been devastated, and all Fushimi could muster was a glare ( _pathetic, pathetic, pathetic_ ). And they’ll all have to be ready to fight again soon, probably before this day even ended. The Red King and his crumbling sword would force them into another one, of that Fushimi was sure.

Fushimi glared and hoped that conveyed everything.

What he saw was the man making a face that, for some reason, he recognized. Fushimi vaguely remembered a warm weight on his head, ice-cold fear in his heart, and a kind-of compliment.

_“You’re fine this way.”_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“You’re fine this way.”

Fushimi remembered this. Memory is one of the things that came easier to him than most. Besides, it’s not like he hadn’t thought of the King’s final expression as he passed him at the breakout. He had. He’d agonized over it actually, trying to place that expression to a moment, trying to remember why he remembered that expression so well. Though, he wasn’t about to admit that.

It was almost the exact same thing. It was frustrating, like Fushimi hadn’t changed at all since the first time Mikoto had said those words. He’d still lashed out and made a fool of himself, he’d still froze at the sound of his name being called like some child expecting a reprimand, the compliment still left him confused and dazed. 

Well, the fear is… it’s not gone, but it’s nowhere near as poignant as before. In fact, if he really thought about it, Fushimi could attribute most of his fear this time to the fact that he was talking to two _ghosts_.

Fushimi didn’t say anything this time. He didn’t run out either. He just let Mikoto give his head a pat and remove his hand. 

Once his hand was gone, they stood, staring at one another. 

…that’s when it got awkward. 

Well, for Fushimi at least. Mikoto didn’t feel affected by it at all, which only made Fushimi more uncomfortable. What did this man want? What’s he going to do?

And the more he thought about it, the more he felt the creeping fear slip back into his mind. Familiar, disgusting, pathetic, hateful. What is it about this man that just made him feel rejected?

Totsuka suddenly burst out laughing. 

“Ahhh,” he said, still giggling, “I was right. Time around Fushimi and King does stop. Oh King, say something would you? You’re making poor Fushimi all nervous again.”

In response, Mikoto put his hand back on Fushimi’s head.

 _What the hell is that supposed to do?!_ Fushimi thought. And once again, annoyance over-ruled the fear. 

“Um, Mikoto-san…”

“See?” Mikoto cut him off, “This is better, right?”

“W-Well…”

“King, you know you can’t just keep your hand on Fushimi’s head for the entire time we’re here, right?”

“Why not? I’m not tired.”

“Well, even so…”

“Besides, we have to leave soon anyways.”

Fushimi started at that. 

“E-Eh? You-you’re going? What about the others?”

Totsuka shook his head and replied, “It’s no good. Even if we can see them, they can’t see us. There’s no point in trying to contact them. This is fine, just Fushimi is fine.”

 _Idiot_ , Fushimi thought, _there’s no way just this is fine, right? No way either of you are okay with just talking to me_. 

“Tsk. Isn’t there at least something you wanna say to Kusanagi-san?”

Totsuka shook his head again. “We said everything we wanted to say when we had the time to say it. Every angry or happy or sad thing we said meant something. You know, I, at least, was really happy that it was you who got this power, Fushimi. You’re one of the ones I think I’d have liked to say more to. King probably feels the same way.”

Mikoto, his hand still on Fushimi’s head, grunted.

“That’s why we’re happy to see that you’re saying what you think more. Some things you’ve got to let out, you know? I remember you used to bury yourself so deep that I thought you’d be crushed. Fushimi, tell the truth more okay? You’re not a liar, but you’re not much of a truther either. No one will hate you if you say what’s on your mind.”

“…whatever’s on my mind?”

Totsuka paused.

“Well… maybe not _everything_.”

That made Fushimi snort despite himself.

“But all the important things, okay?”

“… ‘truther’ isn’t a real word, Totsuka-san.”

“I know, but I’m playing around with language a little. It’s a new hobby!”

“Still with the useless hobbies, huh?”

“Useless?” Totsuka yelped, “King, Fushimi’s being mean to me!”

“ _You’re_ the one who wanted his opinion more.”

“Whaaaat? You’re both mean! Anna!”

“Saruhiko, can you tell me what’s going on? I just felt really annoyed for no reason.”

“Eh?!”

* * *

 

“Anna! I got you your ice-cream!” 

“Where’s mine, Misaki?” 

“ _You_ don’t get ice-cream, idiot! Or soda! Soda has caffeine, you know. You can’t have that with pain–”

“Again with this stupid conversation?”

“…again? We’ve talked about this before?”

“Never mind.”

“Huh? Well, whatever. I’ll make you something else if you’re hungry. And you’ll eat it, you hear? You’ll eat it or else.”

“Or else what, Misaki?”

“Just or else. That doesn’t need any clarification!”

“Pft, how original.”

“Shut up. I’m going to make fried rice, alright?”

“…Misaki, wait.”

“What now?”

“…thanks, I appreciate it.”

(It was almost worth the awkwardness to see Yata fall flat on his face in shock)

_~fin~_


End file.
